‧°꒰🐾꒱༘⋆, laicey 🧸 .ᐟ⸝⸝

@bearinlaice ‘s navigation 🧭 ᝰ.ᐟ

creds to @honeyluvsw 4 dividers & pinterest 4 all images !!!

꒰ Ი︵𐑼 “ call meee if you get lost ” ˚. ᵎᵎ hello ? hai im laicey, she/her, infp, katsuki bakugo’s girlfriend ( real ), katsukist .ᐟ this is to certify that the person named above is permitted to roam freely and indulge in whatever she desires. If lost, please return to katsuki bakugo.

‪‪ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🧳 ꒱ ˎˊ˗ byi ⸝⸝ m.list ⸝⸝ introduction ⸝⸝ #’s ⸝⸝ anons ‪‪ ᝰ.ᐟ

i like the color pink, in every shade. i like life … mine, like, my life — don't fucking bite, yall love to steal ♬⋆.˚

issued: 06 / 25 / 2021  

reference: 04 / 20 / 2001

Heh

hmmm tenya tenya … i never seen him in that light, lemme think about it

i’m not ignoring anyone !!!

i wonder if it’d be better if i reply to requests … and then make a w.i.p page as a list instead of like replying to each of them slowly with a fic underneath as a response

i have stuff that’s like months old 💔

thoughts ?

awh i blushing, thank you sm for enjoying !!! i shall ponder about shiggy some more 🤔

𐔌 brownies | k. bakugo & h. sero .ᐟ ֹ ꒱ִ

ᝰ.ᐟ cw: college!au, weed brownies mention, crack, random yappathon (conversation), possibly misinterpreted (not accurate), stoner!fem!reader, stoner!hanta, slightly jealous!katsuki, established relationship (with katsuki)

ᝰ.ᐟ synopsis: being high with your boyfriend and his friend

ᝰ.ᐟ a/n: i never actually experienced being high, so excuse the possible inaccuracy … but this is the kind of conversation i could imagine with my friends 💔. wait, is that backrooms mentioned ? ⤷ m.list ˎˊ˗

“hantaaa…!” katsuki jolts up and hears you immediately because you and hanta are not subtle at all. the both of you whispering that’s somehow too loud, like you both think lowering your volume automatically cancels out the fact that you’re giggling every five seconds.

the exaggerated “normal walking” down the hallway and the way you both pause outside the kitchen, the random laughter cuts off the second he steps out of his room.

“the hell,” he steps into the hallway slowly, arms crossed over his chest, leaning one shoulder against the wall, already preparing to be irritated. “why are you two acting so weird.”

you freeze mid step and hanta freezes as well alongside of you, his arm that was wrapped around your shoulder dropping.

then you both turn to look at him and start laughing, as if that somehow answers the question. “nothing !” hanta says way too fast, voice cracking at the end.

katsuki’s eye twitches. “don’t ‘nothing’ me. what are you doing sneaking around at midnight ? with my girlfriend ?”

you’re swaying a little, not drunkenly, just … a little off. holding a plastic container against your chest, like it contains state secrets instead of baked goods.

your smile is just a little too wide and your eyes a little too glossy and katsuki narrows his eyes at you, your delayed reactions and the way hanta is trying way too hard not to laugh, beginning to cough.

“…you’re high,” he says slowly, accusation and realization blending together. you gasp like he’s cracked a code and hanta immediately loses it, bending over with a wheeze. “both of you are…”

katsuki’s jaw tightens as he shifts his glare to hanta. “so, you got my girl high ?”

“i did not get your girl high,” hanta defends immediately, hands up like he’s in court. “she is her own person !— she volunteered, enthusiastically. i actually think she peer pressured me...”

you nod very seriously in agreement, a grin on your face. “katsuki,” you say gently, already popping open the container with slow, exaggerated care. “baby, relax. you’re being too loud and your aura is superrr aggressive.”

“don’t ‘baby’ me— i’m being loud because you’re—” and before he can finish, you shove half a brownie directly into his mouth.

there’s a split second where he looks ready to commit a felony. he sputters, nearly chokes, eyes wide in betrayal as he tries to process the sudden mouthful. he glares at you while chewing, crumbs threatening to fall because he refuses to open his mouth fully out of pride.

“what the hell is wrong with you !?—” he manages after swallowing, voice rough and offended.

hanta just pats his shoulder with confidence. “welcome to the experience, my guy.”

katsuki chews again, slower this time. he glares, chews, and swallows. there’s a pause where he considers spitting it out purely out of spite, but he doesn’t.

“…if i get sick,” he mutters flatly, wiping a crumb from the corner of his mouth, “i’m killing both of you. specifically at inconvenient times.”

“you won’ttt,” hanta says calmly. “you’ll transcend.” katsuki rolls his eyes but doesn’t ask for water, he just stands there scowling at both you and hanta.

fifteen minutes later, all three of you are sitting on the dorm kitchen floor because standing turned into leaning against the cabinets, leaning turned into sliding down them, and now you’re all sprawled out on cold tile.

katsuki is on his back, staring at his hands. he flexes his fingers slowly, watching the way they move with intense concentration. one arm is tucked behind his head, the other loosely hooked around your waist, keeping you against him. even high, he still gravitates toward you.

“…why does the floor feel comfortable,” he mutters after a long silence, voice lower than usual, calmer and genuinely curious.

“the floor is awesome,” hanta slurs from a few feet away, already starfished out.

katsuki snorts softly, which is how you know he’s high now, instead of his angry demeanor a while ago. he turns his head slightly toward you, eyes heavy but focused. “i’m hungry,” he adds after a second, and right on cue, his stomach growls loudly.

you lift your head to look at him, delighted. “oh my …”

he scowls faintly. “shut up and don’t look at me like that.”

hanta props himself up on one elbow. “bro, the munchiesss?”

katsuki sits up halfway immediately, as if activated. “yo, we got more of those brownies?”

“you literally just threatened to haunt us,” you remind him.

“uh yeah, well. i’ve reconsidered.” he reaches for the container without shame, already digging through it. “if i’m ‘transcending,’ i’m not doing it on an empty stomach.”

he breaks off another piece, then pauses, looking between you and hanta. “…don’t touch this one. this is mine.”

“greedy,” hanta accuses with another snort.

“fuck up,” katsuki slurs, taking a bite and chewing thoughtfully like he’s judging a baking competition. “these are actually kinda good. did you make these ?”

you beam, “maybe.” he nods once in approval, which in katsuki language is basically a love confession. then he flops back down, chewing lazily, noticeably more relaxed than either of you expected.

a beat passes while katsuki chews lazily and you end up staring at the ceiling tiles, unblinking. “… do you guys think the backrooms are actually scary ?”

hanta turns his head, concerned. his brows pinch together as he props himself up slightly on one elbow. “… what kinda question is that ?”

you shrug slowly, still staring upward. “it’s a serious question.” your hand lifts toward the ceiling lazily as you try to explain further. “because everybody talks about like … the monsters and stuff, but i feel like the scary part isn’t even the monsters.”

katsuki snorts quietly through his nose, reaching into the brownie container again. “yeah right, you’d be scared as shit.”

you gasp softly and turn toward him, rolling your eyes. “well !… i mean, yeah.”

he blinks, expecting a smart remark from you at least. “…why’re you agreeing with me ?”

you sit up slightly, suddenly invested. “because think about it. yeah, the monsters — no, entities would be scary, but imagine you noclip into the backrooms or whatever and there’s nothing there.”

hanta stares, listening as he rubs the stubble on his chin. “… okay wait,” he then squints. “that’s actually kinda scary.”

you point at him. “exactly !” you sit up completely, way too invested now. “i feel like the entities are not even what gets you.”

hanta’s brows pinch as he raises one of them. “then what …?”

you stare at the ceiling for a second before answering quieter. “being stuck.”

katsuki glances over and you continue. “because there’s no like ending, it’s just a loop.” your hand moves vaguely in a circle shape as you try to explain some more. “like every level looks different, but they all feel weirdly familiar.”

you then frown, just thinking about it trips you up. “like places you swear you’ve seen before but you haven’t and they all feel nostalgic for no reason !”

hanta begins nodding slowly. “… you’re right. that’s the shit they be showin’ on tiktok.” he pauses, then adds, “i wonder if they have a smell …”

you blink, turning to look at him. “… why would you ask that ?”

he shrugs and leans back a little. “because every weird place got a lil smell.”

you stare for a second before nodding with a snicker. “lowkey, you’re right.” you point at him again. “the poolrooms probably smells like wet concrete.”

hanta grimaces with a lazy smile afterwards. “… eeyuck.”

you chuckle and then your expression scrunches again and your voice quiets. “… but like what do you even think about after a while of being there ?”

the kitchen goes quieter except for the sound of katsuki chewing. you stare upward, “i feel like eventually i’d stop trying to leave.”

the two boys stare at you like you’re crazy and you laugh softly but it comes out a little shaky and weird. “not because i’d want to stay — gosh, no !” you think for a second, “… but because i feel like your brain literally isn’t built for something with no end.” your hand drops onto your stomach. “like eventually i think i’d forget what 'normal' looked like.”

katsuki finally finishes chewing and shrugs. “… that’d piss me off.” you glance over at him, and he looks genuinely annoyed, imagining it. “the idea that somewhere exists with no exit.” his brows pull together. “nah. fuck that.” he shakes his head once. “i’d keep lookin'.”

he continues before looking away. “and if i don’t find one i’m blowin’ that shit up.”

you stare and then smile, laughing quietly at the fact he’s actually indulging in a conversation like this, coming back to the realization that your boyfriend is just as much of a conspiracy theorist as you — he’s literally a nerd. “that’s the most… you statement ever.”

he scoffs, “shut up.” then after a second, he says, “… also,” he speaks slower this time as he tries to figure out how exactly he wants to say this. “if we all ended up there together i feel like we’d figure it out … eventually.”

he pauses and then immediately scowls, peeping what he just said. “not in a sentimental way.”

you and hanta look at each other and hanta slowly points. “…he’s high.”

you nod, agreeing and then cooing to katsuki, “…that’s kinda cute, kats.” his face twists instantly. “tch, yeah whatever …”

then after a second, he shifts closer to you, pressing his face briefly into your shoulder. “you for sure would make it, you’d beat the shit outta them. you’re strong.” his voice is softer now, steadier as he glances up at you, his eyes unfocused and lazy, but he looks so in love. 

you grin lazily, weaving your fingers through his spikes. “yay, thank you. you’re so much nicer like this …”

“… shut up,” he mutters again, but this time, he’s smiling against your skin and lowering his head to place light kisses on you.

hanta rolls his eyes with a scoff at how sappy his friend gets with you, his girl. “c’mon bro ...” then chuckles and adds, “wait, imagine hearing somebody turn the corner and thinking it’s your friend — like denks, and then it’s not—”

you gasp and katsuki groans against your skin. “… okay now i’m done with this conversation !—”

the hallway outside erupts in distant laughter from some other dorm, someone yelling about a failed beer pong shot, a door slamming somewhere on the floor above you.

hanta eventually lifts his head slightly after being basically scolded by katsuki. “do you guys think we’ll remember this conversation tomorrow ?”

“no, probably not,” you say with a grin.

“nah,” katsuki agrees, already reaching for another brownie as if he’s preparing for hibernation.

hanta nods. “good because i think we just discussed a government project and i don’t want nothin' to do with that, the government is spooky as shit ...”

you start giggling again at his term 'governent project,' soft at first, then contagious, and hanta joins, though he’s being serious. katsuki tries not to and fails, his shoulders shaking as he huffs out a laugh.

and somewhere between the laughter, katsuki looks at you, his eyes all soft and hazy. “you, you’re not allowed to get high without me again,” he mutters.

you smile softly. “that’s ... that's the takeaway ?”

“yeah.” he pulls you closer, forehead bumping your shoulder clumsily, nose brushing your skin as he speaks. “if we’re gonna question stuff, we’re doing it together … and i’m not missin’ out on free food again.”

hanta groans, grimacing at the both of you. “i’m literally right here dude.”

“then stop third wheeling, bum,” katsuki shoots back lazily, already reaching past you for the container one more time. “and don’t touch the last one. i’m serious.”

but he doesn’t let you go, still clinging onto you regardless of his gluttony.

and the three of you stay there on the kitchen floor of your crappy off-campus apartment, arguing about how one another would act in a backrooms perdicament and whether katsuki is allowed to claim dibs on baked goods in a shared space that he didn’t even make, until the multiple brownies eventually take full effect on you all.

thank u thank u thank u ^_^ !!!

i write for him … rarely, but i have a couple others that are thereee

he is very fun to write, i love adding the detail of him doing things with a pinky up. very gentlemanly. very cutesy.

haiii !!! im unsure of how it would continue onnn, im sorry -n-

*beams a huge smile at you*

THANK YOU !!!

ᝰ.ᐟ cw: 18+, suggestive, awkward, playful/gentle teasing, embarrassment, light degradation, namecalling, light flirting, light humiliation (?), touya and shiggy may be a little mean, pervy!fem!reader, pre-relationship, features: kirishima, denki, sero, shigaraki, shoto and touya todoroki ( possibly ooc, don’t kill me, okay ?)

ᝰ.ᐟ synopsis: catching print w/ the boys

ᝰ.ᐟ a/n 💬: multis are hard … sorry if some of the dialogue is hard to see (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞, but i changed my layout once again ! tumblr now has black text instead of purple and i like the way it looks on my enddd yayayay ⤷ m.list ˎˊ˗

𐔌 e. kirishima .ᐟ

“you got me, right?”

eijiro’s voice is a little breathless already, shoulders settling against the bench as he adjusts his grip on the bar. you’re right behind him, hands hovering where they should be, close enough to help — but not to touch.

you nod, giving him a quick “yeah! yeah, go ahead,” and he doesn’t hesitate for even a second, he trusts you completely.

his reps start smooth and steady. you’re watching — at first. tracking the bar, his breathing, the rhythm of it. but somewhere in the middle, when he shifts slightly to steady himself, your focus slips. just for a second. your eyes drop without thinking, catching the way the fabric of his shorts pulls and settles with each movement, and before you realize it — you’re staring. not even intentionally, right?

your eyes slip lower to the solid print straining against his gym shorts, thick and unmissable, and you stare at his bulge there, mesmerized by how it fills out the fabric, mentally ranking him high: definitely a girthy one, the kind that'd stretch you just right—

“…you still with me?” he asks, voice strained but light, snapping you out of it as he sits up.

you realize your eyes were glued way too low, staring at his bulge as it moved with him. “y-yeah,” you answer quickly, eyes jumping back up. “you’re good!”

he finishes the set with a sharp exhale, racks the weight, and sits up, rolling his shoulders. everything feels normal for about half a second — until he pauses mid-reach for his towel and glances at you.

he’s quietly aware, his gaze dips for a split second before returning to your face, softer now, a little amused. “y’know,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck with a small, awkward laugh, “usually my spotter’s watchin’ the bar.”

he tilts his head, following where your attention was. “were you... checking me out?” there's no accusation, just playful curiosity, his red eyes sparkling.

your cheeks heat up. “no, i was just— zoning out.” but even as you say it, you steal another glance, staring briefly at his bulge again, confirming his solid d.

he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, a little flushed himself. “zoning out, huh? looked pretty focused to me.” he flexes his legs a bit, like he's testing, and damn if it doesn't make the outline more pronounced, feeding right into your pervy thoughts as you stare once more.

heat floods your face instantly as you try to recover, words tripping over themselves, but he just shakes his head, he shifts a little where he’s sitting, suddenly aware of himself too, like the thought hadn’t crossed his mind until now. “…that a thing you do?” he asks after a moment, genuinely curious.

you hesitate, then sigh, giving in. “n-no, it’s called catch printing…”

he repeats it slowly, then glances down again, this time with some actual understanding. there’s a pause while he processes, shoulders shifting slightly before he clears his throat, a quiet laugh slipping out under his breath.

“…so you were—” he starts, then cuts himself off, shaking his head. “man…”

he tries again, softer this time, a little shy but still curious. “…did you, uh… come to a conclusion?”

“eijiro!—“ you groan, covering your face.

he laughs, hands coming up in surrender, but he doesn’t move away. if anything, he stays right there, warmth lingering in the space between you.

“…sorry, sorry. just caught me off guard,” he says, still smiling faintly. then he shifts again—subtle, but noticeable now that you’re both more aware of it.

there’s a small pause before he adds, quieter, almost to himself, “…kinda makes me wanna prove you right, though.”

𐔌 d. kaminari .ᐟ

“nah, wait, watch, this is the best part—”

denki sprawled on the couch beside you, legs manspread wide in those loose joggers, already halfway into your space, shoulder bumping yours as he shoves his phone closer, replaying the same instagram reel like it somehow gets funnier every time.

he’s laughing before the funny part even shows, leaning into you without thinking, completely caught up in it.

you lean in too, trying to follow along — really, you are — but the proximity makes it a lot harder than it should be.

somewhere between him shifting closer and getting comfortable, your attention slips. just briefly. your eyes flick down without thinking, catching the faint curve there, not huge but teasingly curved, enough to spark your imagination, and you stare at his bulge, eyes tracing the shape through the fabric, slotting him mid-rank, possibly a b.

“…yo,” he’s already watching you, just grinning wide and knowing. “whoa, what’s that look for?” denki says, pausing the video as he peers at you.

you freeze instantly, like you’ve been caught mid-thought, and slowly look up. “huh? nothing,” you reply too fast, but your mind's still tracing that print, wondering how it'd feel twitching under your touch, your eyes having just been staring at his bulge so intently.

he smirks, shifting so his thigh brushes yours. “you sure? ‘cause your eyes were like, laser-focused down there.” he wiggles his eyebrows, but there's a hint of real curiosity, his own gaze dropping briefly like he's checking himself, aware of how you were staring at his bulge.

you laugh it off, but inside you're buzzing — pervy habit kicking in hard. “n-nobody’s worried about you, denki.”

“…you weren’t even watching,” he says, tilting his head, eyes flicking down deliberately this time before returning to yours. “were you?”

“i was—”

“mm, no,” he cuts in, laughing under his breath. he shifts his legs slightly just enough to feed into those perverted thoughts of yours — and leans in closer. “you were definitely lookin’ somewhere else.”

your face burns as you try to deny it, but he’s not buying it for a second. if anything, he looks more entertained the longer you try. “that’s crazy,” he murmurs, like he’s genuinely impressed.

you huff, crossing your arms, trying to recover some dignity. “…it’s just a thing.”

“…a thing,” he echoes, clearly amused.

you hesitate, then mumble, “catching print.”

there’s a beat of silence, then his expression lights up instantly. “ohhh,” he drags out, grin widening. “nah, i’ve heard of that.”

of course he has, that chronically online bastard.

he nudges you with his shoulder, clearly enjoying this way too much. “you just look and guess, right? people be ranking it and everything.”

you don’t answer, which is basically enough confirmation for him.

“…damn,” he laughs, leaning back slightly before glancing down at himself like he’s actually evaluating. “so what’d i get?”

“denki, please—“

“what?” he presses, grin sharpening. “you started it.”

you hesitate, then mumble it under your breath. “…an a.”

there’s a moment of silence — which is rare when you’re with denki, just long enough to make you regret saying anything.

“an a?” he repeats, mock offended.

then he readjusts slower this time and looks back at you with narrowed eyes, playful but a bit intense. “…you sure about that?” he murmurs with a lick of his lips.

your breath catches as he leans in just a little closer, voice dropping into something quieter, more teasing. “wanna test that theory, pretty liar?”

𐔌 h. sero .ᐟ

“hold on— don’t move.”

hanta’s voice is absentminded, attention focused entirely on your notebook as his pencil moves like he’s been given full creative control. one arm hooks loosely behind your chair, leaning into your space like it’s the most natural thing in the world. you glance down and, sure enough, there’s another little spider-man doodle creeping into your notes.

“you’re ruining my work,” you mutter, though there’s no real attitude behind it. you love hanta and his random doodles.

“nah,” he hums, tilting his head as he adds another line. “i’m improving it!”

you roll your eyes, but your attention doesn’t stay there. it drifts without meaning to, pulled downward for just a second. then a second longer.

“something on your mind?” hanta asks, voice light as he feels your eyes drawing down to stare at him.

“not at all,” you say, but your pulse quickens, pervy gears turning as you imagine unwrapping that, your stare having been so obvious.

he chuckles softly, “you’ve got that look... like you’re measuring me up or something.” his dark eyes glint with amusement as he continues sketching.

you shrug, playing cool, though your gaze flicks down once more — staring at his bulge to confirm the promising length. “….just watching you draw.”

“…mhm, y’know,” he says casually, causing you to freeze. he’s still drawing and hasn’t even looked at you yet. “…that’s not really what you’ve been starin’ at.”

your head snaps up too fast, denial already forming as he finally glances over, one brow raised, a small, knowing smile tugging at his mouth. “you always this obvious?” he murmurs with a smug smirk.

you look away immediately, heat creeping up your neck. “just... catching print,” you admit under your breath, the words slipping out after all that staring.

“…ah,” he tsks out loud, with no surprise.

you blink, surprised. “…you know?”

“kinda,” he shrugs, spinning the pencil between his fingers now. “seen it on tiktok, denks showed it to me.”

you groan under your breath, which only makes him laugh softly. “so what,” he continues, leaning just a little closer, voice dropping slightly, “you really are sizing me up or something?”

“n-no!”

“mm,” he hums, unconvinced. then he shifts where he’s sitting — casual enough to pass, but not accidental, then taps your notebook like he’s bringing the focus back, even though his eyes are still on you.

“c’mon,” he adds, quieter now, “don’t go quiet on me, i would like to know…”

you don’t answer, and that silence says more than anything else could and he watches you for a second longer before his smile deepens into something a little more playful. “…guess i’ll just have to give you something better to focus on next time, maybe i’ll give you a taste later,” he mutters with false nonchalance laced in his voice.

𐔌 s. todoroki .ᐟ

“wait, you skipped a step.”

shoto slides your notebook back toward you, pen hovering as he points out the mistake with quiet precision. you nod, following along, trying to stay focused on what he’s saying — but your attention slips, just briefly, right? your eyes dart, catching the straight, firm print against his uniform pants.

"is there something wrong?" he asks, interrupting your thoughts as he’s looking up at you.

you blink. “what? no.” your voice comes out too quick, and you shift in your seat, hoping he doesn’t notice the heat creeping up your neck. “just... the equation’s tricky. keep going?”

"...you stopped writing," he notes as he tilts his head slightly, heterochromatic eyes steady. "you seem distracted." he sets the pen down, shifting in his seat — the motion making the swell more apparent for a breath before he picks up again, voice even. "if it's the notes, I can go slower." but the subtle pause in his gaze suggests he knows it’s not that at all.

you stiffen slightly. “i-it’s fine !— i’m listening.”

he doesn’t respond right away. instead, there’s a small pause and then his eyes drop subtle, like he’s retracing whatever just pulled your focus.

when he looks back up, his expression hasn’t changed much, but there’s something more thoughtful behind it now. "...what were you looking at?" he asks, completely serious.

you hesitate. “…nothing.”

there’s a pause as he studies you, quiet and observant in a way, before his gaze lowers again — this time slower, more deliberate. you feel it, the way he’s putting it together piece by piece. "was it something here?"

your stomach tightens. “it’s nothing, really.”

he doesn’t drop it, geez shoto.

"...it didn't seem like nothing," he replies, voice even. another pause follows, then, quieter. "...you were looking at me."

your face burns instantly as you grit out. “i wasn’t!—”

he tilts his head slightly, watching you. not convinced. "where...," he asks with a slight hesitation, "were you looking...?"

you stare at him, mortified, but he doesn’t look away — he just waits, patient in that way he always is when he wants an answer.

you exhale sharply. “…it’s just a thing.”

"what kind of thing?"

you hesitate, then mumble, “…people look and try to guess.”

"...guess what?"

you gesture vaguely, already regretting this. “…size.”

there’s a pause as he processes that quietly. "...based on how it looks through clothing," he repeats, slower now.

you nod, avoiding his eyes. “and they rank it. like — a, b, d. it’s stupid, sorry, shoto.”

there’s a little bit of silence for a bit, then, "...i see." you risk a glance at him, but he’s already looking down again. "..and you were doing that?.." he says.

you cover your face. “shoto—”

"was your estimate correct?" he asks.

you choke. “w-what?!”

he looks back up at you, completely serious. “if the point is to estimate, then accuracy would matter.”

you make a small, mortified noise of embarrassment, and his gaze softens as he watches you with a small grin. “if it makes you feel better, i’ll let you see…”

𐔌 t. todoroki .ᐟ

the patio is quiet, touya’s sprawled across the couch, legs spread, one arm thrown over the back while the other loosely holds a cigarette. smoke curls lazily into the air as he talks, voice low and disinterested.

you’re across from him, nodding along, trying to pay attention — but your focus slips, your gaze drifts downward into his lap and stays there.

“…you done?”

your head snaps up immediately and he’s already looking at you, expression flat but edged with something faintly amused. not surprised in the slightest, though. “huh?—”

“what are you doing, huh?” he cuts in, sharp enough to stop you mid-sentence. your stomach twists as he exhales slowly, eyes dropping — following the exact same path yours just did before lifting again. “…you’re so fuckin’ weird,” he mutters.

heat floods your face as you try to recover, shaking your head, but he doesn’t give you much room to.

“you were so,” he adds, more firmly this time and you go quiet, open to his possible scolding.

he leans forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees as he looks at you. “…that get you off or something?” he asks.

you hesitate, then mumble, “…n-no.”

he scoffs under his breath. “uh-huh...”

you huff, a little defensive, but he just watches you for a second longer before leaning back again, settling deeper into the couch. “…so what,” he continues, voice lower now, “you tryna figure it out?”

you don’t answer and he clicks his tongue, unimpressed. “…well if you’re gonna stare,” he mutters, “at least don’t act shy about it.”

there’s a pause, the air heavier now, before he adds. “c’mon, weirdo.”

𐔌 t. shigaraki .ᐟ

the game glitches at the worst possible moment and he loses instantly.

“tsk, fuck!—” tomura leans forward, his irritation immediate. all of his fingers except his pinky tighten around the controller like he might snap it, but then he pauses mid-motion, something else catching his attention.

in the midst of his rage, your eyes drifted and settled on the way his loose pants slightly bulged, the outline capturing your attention. you found yourself mentally assessing him, considering him a risky b+, something that could easily decay your self-control. “…the hell are you staring at?”

you freeze, realizing too late that you’ve gone completely still, your gaze still longing on him. “n-nothing!—”

he turns his head slowly, eyes landing on you before dropping and following your line of sight without hesitation. “…you’re a pervert,” he says flatly, but there's a rasp to it, like he's not entirely mad — more so intrigued, scratching at his neck as he shifts, making the print more evident.

you swallow, heart pounding, “…caught me,” you mutter, voice small but laced with that thrill, after staring so blatantly and feeling bad.

he huffs, controller forgotten. “yeah, you’re fucking obvious. what, sizing me up like some creep?” his eyes bore into you, but he doesn't move away, legs parting just a fraction, inviting the stare, or maybe challenging it, despite himself.

“shiggy…,” your face burns as you look away, trying to deny it, but he cuts you off just as quickly. “no, no, don’t give me that. yeah, you are.”

you shrink back slightly, but he just leans into the couch, one hand coming up to scratch at his neck while the controller rests loosely in the other.

tomura's lip then curls, almost a smirk. “you're into that shit?” but his voice lacks bite as he leans back.

at your silence, a faint huff leaves him, something almost amused under it. “…hm,” he breathes, glancing over his shoulder, “…alright then.”

oh m gee hai ^_^ !!! i’m so happy to see you here !!! i enjoy your account as well so like im so flattered like wowwowowowowowowowow

u have an AMAZING day !!!

𐔌 press my buttons, baby. | k. bakugo .ᐟ ֹ ꒱ִ

ᝰ.ᐟ cw: 18+, nsfw, bratty!sub katsuki, dom!fem!reader, power play, grinding, edging, teasing, praise kink, degradation, established relationship 

ᝰ.ᐟ synopsis: subby kats

ᝰ.ᐟ a/n 💬: he’s such a brat. rare sighting of sub!bkg and dom!reader, pls eat it up. this prob won’t happen again …

katsuki runs his mouth and that’s the problem. so now, he’s sprawled on his back beneath you, ash blond spikes a wild tangle against the rumpled sheets, his shirt rucked up high enough to expose his abdomen, skin flushed and glistening faintly.

you’d shoved the fabric there yourself earlier, your fingers lingering just to feel the way his muscles jumped under your touch. and still, he glares up at you with that fiery defiance, crimson eyes narrowed like he’s the one in control here.

“you’re so damn irritatin’,” he mutters, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through his chest, rough hands clamping down on your hips where you’re perched firmly on his thighs, straddling him with deliberate weight. “hate when you look like that. makes me wanna wipe that fuckin’ smirk right off your face.”

“yeah?” you hum back, your tone light and teasing as you lean down slowly, letting your breath fan over his parted lips. close enough that he can almost taste you, but not quite. “do it, then.”

his jaw clenches tight, the sharp line of it ticking under the strain, and you can feel the tension coiling in his body like a spring ready to snap. “don’t test me, woman.” he warns, the words gritted out.

you arch a single brow, undeterred, and reach for his wrists, capturing them in your grip before pinning them firmly against the mattress. your fingers dig in just enough to remind him of your control, the sheets bunching under the pressure.

he could flip you off him in an instant and you both know it, actually — his strength, his power, it’s all there humming beneath the surface. but he doesn’t. he stays put like the good boy he is, chest heaving a little faster now, those intense eyes locked on yours with a heat that’s equal parts challenge and surrender.

“oh?” you murmur, your voice dropping to a giggly whisper as you hold his stare. “thought you liked when i test you. pushes all your buttons, doesn’t it?”

“i don’t,” he snaps right back immediately, but his breath hitches just a fraction, giving him away.

you lean in closer still, your lips brushing the shell of his ear, the warmth of your body pressing down to envelop him. “right, right… you crave it.” his fingers flex against your hold, straining subtly.

“fuck, get off me,” he demands, voice dipping low and rough, but it’s laced with whininess and something almost pleading now.

you tilt your head, feigning consideration as you trace the edge of his jaw with your gaze. “mm, no. i like you right where you are.”

his nostrils flare, a flush creeping up his neck. “you’re annoying as hell.”

“and you’re a brat,” you counter, your gentle but unforgiving, delivered like a caress against his pride. “so desperate under all that bark, katsu.”

his ears burn red, the color spreading hot across his skin, and he averts his eyes for a split second before forcing them back to yours. “shut up,” he growls, but it’s more whine than threat, his body betraying him as his hips shift restlessly beneath you.

“make me.” you huff, rewarding the physical vulnerability despite the rudeness with a subtle roll of your own hips, just enough pressure to make him feel the full weight of you completely.

his breath stutters out in a quick exhale, eyes widening briefly before he reins it in, but you catch every little telltale sign in the way his thighs tense under you and the subtle arch of his back, the building of his bulge growing as you grind slowly.

“so handsome, yet so mean,” you coo, your nose trailing lightly along the rough stubble of his jaw, inhaling the faint scent of smoke and sweat that clings to him. “all that tough talk, just to melt like this.”

he bucks his hips up once, a defiant jolt that presses him harder against you, his eyes fluttering from the feel. “i’m not meltin’. i could end this whenever the hell i want.”

you tighten your grip on his wrists, nails digging into his skin just enough to sting, your voice a commanding murmur. “don’t you move unless i say.”

he freezes, utterly, and completely still, so obediently. the only movement is the frantic bob of his throat as he swallows hard, his adam’s apple shifting under the column of his neck.

“…h-hate when you pull that shit,” he mutters, the words barely above a breath, but his body obeys, locked in place.

you smile against the warm pulse point of his neck, letting your lips ghost over it. “yeah, i know. but you love obeying, don’t you? deep down...”

his hands strain for a second, muscles flexing as if he’s warring with himself — wanting to push back, and to prove he’s still in control — but then he exhales sharply, a defeated huff, and lets his head drop back into the pillow, exposing more of his throat to you. “fuck…”

one of your hands release his wrist, trailing down his arm, over the heaving rise of his chest, fingers dancing lightly across the sensitive skin of his abdomen before dipping lower, teasing the waistband of his pants with feather light touches. 

you press your palm flat against the straining heat there, feeling the way his body jolts, the rapid pulse of his arousal throbbing under your soft hand as you stroke him slowly. 

his breath comes in ragged bursts now, hips twitching upward instinctively, chasing the sensation as you work him closer, the tension coiling tighter in his frame, every muscle drawn taut like a bowstring. “o-oh fuck, mmm…”

“you gonna keep running that mouth?” you tease, your lips dragging slowly down the side of his neck. “or you gonna be a good boy for me?” he squeezes his eyes shut tight as he nods, his jaw locked so hard as a low groan trapped behind his teeth escapes as you increase the pace just enough to push him to the edge. 

“j-just like that — keep going, baby.” he grunts, his body trembling, breaths shallow and desperate.

then you stop and your hand stills completely, pulling away to rest innocently on his thigh, and leaving him hanging there, suspended in that agonizing peak.

“…h-hey,” he rasps, but it’s weak, laced with the heat of his arousal, his hips jerking futilely in the air now, seeking what you’ve denied him.

“hm?” you echo sweetly, your free hand sliding down to splay over his chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heart beneath your palm.

his fingers curl into the sheets beside him, knuckles whitening as he fights the urge to touch you, to grab you. “why’d you stop…?”

“you ignored me,” you reply, your voice a soft murmur as you nip lightly at the skin below his ear. “i asked you a question and you just said ‘keep going, baby!’” you mock him, scoffing.

“i-i…” he starts to argue, but turns his head away, hiding his face from the embarrassment. “m’sorry.” he murmurs, but his hips tilt up again — subtle, involuntary, and searching. 

“aw, okay, my baby.” you chuckle, obliging this time due to his apology, resuming the teasing strokes with your hand, slower now, drawing out the build once more, watching his reactions intently. 

the way his lips part on silent pleas, the sweat beading on his brow, the desperate clench of his fists as you bring him right back to that edge, only to ease off again, your touch withdrawing just as his body starts to shudder in anticipation.

you catch the motion instantly, pressing your body down to still him, “look at you,” you breathe, your lips “begging without even saying the words.”

“’m not beggin’,” he insists, eyes snapping open to glare at you, but the spark in them is now dimmed, softened by the haze of need clouding his gaze. his voice cracking on the denial as another wave of denied release leaves him panting and pouting.

you lean back just a touch, creating a bit of space to drink in the sight of him — disheveled, flushed, and utterly at your mercy, body arched and straining from the repeated teases.

“if you say so,” you shrug with feigned nonchalance, starting to ease off him, your hands loosening their hold as if you might actually pull away, letting the cool air hit his overheated skin.

his reaction is immediate, his hands shoot up to grab your waist, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, holding you in place with a desperation that borders on frantic.

“don’t,” he says, the word rough and quiet, stripped of its usual bravado — a raw plea wrapped in command.

you pause, hovering above him, letting the moment stretch as you meet his eyes. “…don’t what, katsuki?”

he hesitates, that proud jaw working as he battles his own ego, the vulnerability creating lines of tension across his face, his body still thrumming with unspent energy from your edging games. “please…”

the hesitation from him is your absolute favorite. “please what?”

“…don’t stop,” he mutters at last, the admission so quiet it’s almost lost in the space between you, his gaze dropping away in defeat.

you smile sweet and slow as you settle back down fully, your body molding against his. “there it is. my good boy, finally saying what he wants while being nice about it.”

he scowls up at you, but the blush in his cheeks deepens at the praise, his grip on your waist softening, thumbs tracing idle circles over your skin like he can’t resist the contact, even as you trail your fingers teasingly once more, promising to drag him to the edge again and again until he’s utterly undone.

“you’re fuckin’ insufferable,” he grumbles, underlying need threading through every syllable.

“and you fucking love it,” you reply, leaning down once more, your hands gliding over the heated expanse of his chest, nails scraping lightly on his reddened tip to draw a shiver from him. “be good for me, katsuki. i’m taking care of you…”